Hidden in Plain Sight
by Griever11
Summary: A series of post-ep ficlets, the scenes they didn't want us to see. Tiva-ish. Post 7x06 - Punching Bag now up!
1. Truth and Consequences: Abby's Truth

Post – ep for 7x01 Truth and Consequences, one of the best NCIS episodes I've watched in a while. Did anyone else feel sorry for Tony when he just walked back to his desk and watched Abby and Ziva hugging at the end?

This is what happens after. In my head, at least. =]

**Truth and Consquences - Abby's Truth.**

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"She hasn't called."

If Abby hadn't been paying close attention to Tony, his hoarse voice would have been drowned out, disappearing beneath the noise of the bar they were at. His hands were clutched tightly around a glass of clear liquid, but Abby wasn't as naive to think that it was plain water that was being swirled around in the glass. She gingerly placed an arm on her friend's, not sure if anything she said would be able to soothe him.

"I mean, I get that she's hurt and injured and confused. I really do. But," He paused to make way for another mouthful of vodka. "I'd give up all the stupid attention from the office to hear her say anything ... _anything_."

"She needs time, Tony." Abby told him gently.

When Tony had made the call several hours ago asking Abby to come and join him, she knew it had to be pretty bad. He'd pleaded with her to get there as soon as she could under the pretence that he wanted to celebrate the end of a successful rescue mission. Upon turning up however, she noticed the absence of the rest of the team and she knew that this was not a celebration. She recognised his desperation as one not unlike the time Kate died, or when Jenny got killed and he was on the verge of being shipped off to sea.

"She made Gibb's choose between us. Me and her. She was going to come back if I wasn't there. She stayed in Israel 'cause of me." His voice cut into her thoughts and she focused back on her desolate friend.

His words were slightly slurred, but the bitterness was clearly evident. He downed the last of his drink before impatiently tapping the bar top for another drink. Abby stilled his hands and jerked her head in a negative as the bartender shot them a questioning look.

"No more drinks, Tony. I need you to be able to stand when I get you out of here." She admonished.

His eyes as he stared at her were haunted, and it scared her to see how similar it was to the last two times she had been here with him. Both times he had come to the bar dragging Abby along as a safety net to make sure he didn't get _himself _killed. The only difference this time was that he wasn't mourning for a fallen comrade.

"Tony..."

He shut his eyes and dropped his head into his hands which were folded on the table. "She was supposed to be _dead_." He whispered into his arms. "I was avenging a fallen partner because the last time, I couldn't."

Abby drew in a sharp breath as she finally understood. Of course she'd realise his initial intention was to avenge her death, and at the time, between all the pain and regret of realising another dear friend had been killed, Abby had supported him with zero doubts in her mind. It had begun as a simple search for her which ended in weeks of utter despair, and she knew Tony had taken it very badly.

"She was supposed to be dead but she wasn't, Abs. She was sitting there, as alive as you and me and suddenly it became a rescue mission. And she said ... she didn't _want_ me there Abby. Do you understand? I went there to avenge her, and she didn't even want me there."

Abby exhaled, unsure of the right thing to say. Her heavy bracelets clanged noisily against the bar top as she tried to pry Tony's head away from his arms. Her fingers were gentle as she lifted his head, caressing his features and noticing that there still were ugly scars that had not properly faded.

"I really don't think it's like that."

"It's exactly like that Abby. _'It had to be you'_ she said. Like ... like she would have preferred someone else-"

"You have to stop this. You saved her. You, and McGee and Gibbs, but mostly you because _you_ didn't give up. Even the toughest ninja warrior princess can't ignore that. You were partners and friends long before you killed Rivkin, and nothing can possibly change that. Understand? I need you to promise me you'll give Ziva some time. Promise me, Tony."

Tony blinked at her as her words echoed in his head. Her eyes were bright, green and so fierce he wanted to cower beneath his arms again. Her voice was so full of conviction that he couldn't help but let a little hope blossom within his heart. His head was filled with sudden clarity, one he hadn't really experienced since that fateful flight back from Israel. Maybe Abby was right. After all, Ziva was never really good at adapting to emotions.

"Maybe I'll just ask McGee if he's heard from Ziva." He mumbled, attempting to fish his cellphone from his pocket. Abby intercepted him however, and pulled him to his feet.

"Ask him at work tomorrow." She told him as she took his wallet from his coat pocket. She pulled out a few bills and slapped it onto the bar. Tony started to protest, not quite done with his night yet but the alcohol had compromised his motor skills and before he knew it, he was being steered out into the parking lot.

"Tony, promise me."

Tony was confused for a short moment before recalling their earlier conversation. He chuckled ruefully and nodded before tugging at the door handle of her hearse.

"I promise, Abby."

She pulled at her pigtails as she contemplated his sincerity and finally decided that Tony was indeed being honest. Drunk people didn't have the ability to lie properly anyway.

As she twisted her key in the ignition she noticed Tony's head was already lolling from side to side in slumber. The poor man was exhausted, the worry lines etched so deeply in his brow. Abby decided on the spot that it was about high time she and Ziva had a good long chat about Ziva's trust issues. She'd overheard Dr. Bracko telling Gibbs Ziva was due for her first psych evaluation and made a mental note to catch her the moment she came in the next day.

00000

End.

And cue the amazing Abby scene in 7x02. Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Reunion: Of Movies and Chinese

Post Reunion. I loved the quirky music that was playing in that end scene. Anyone else wondered how Ziva managed to get her desk and investigative privileges back even though she was still technically a 'visitor'?

**Of Movies and Chinese**

00000

"Tony."

Her expression as she greeted him at the door was one of confusion, and Tony decided that while it wasn't the one he was expecting, it was perfectly acceptable. It was marginally better than an expression of irritation, because that particular expression more often than not led to frustration, then anger, then him being kicked out of her apartment with too much food and no one to share it with. No, confused Ziva was definitely acceptable.

"The door is open because I want you to come in, Tony. Not just stand there."

Tony snapped out of his inner monologue, realising the look of confusion on her face was slowly making way for annoyed, which was too close to irritation than he would have liked. He flashed a grin at her before stepping into her new apartment. He took note that it was significantly smaller than her old one and less decorated, although that was probably because she'd only just moved in. He lifted two bags full of Chinese takeout and handed it off to her before he shrugged out of his coat.

"So I thought as a celebration, y'know, to the end of your first day back and all, we can have dinner, and then watch a movie." He called out as Ziva disappeared further into the apartment. He followed the sounds of her unpacking the food out and found her in the kitchen. Ziva quirked an eyebrow at him as he leaned against the counter, watching her.

"You wanted to watch a movie?"

"Uh, yeah? You missed out on a couple of summer hits and you should catch up." He offered.

"For an investigator, you do not observe very well." She said simply before handing him a pair of chopsticks and a takeout box. Tony glared at her when she turned away to grab them glasses and filled them with water. Here he was, being the nice guy who had just brought her dinner, and she was insulting him. Maybe he shouldn't have run out on her like that in the men's bathroom the day before. Idiot. Maybe then she wouldn't be insulting his friendly gesture.

"What, if you don't like -"

"No, I am merely pointing out that I do not have a TV." She said. "Or a DVD player. Sit and eat, you're spilling on my floor."

"Oh. Right." Tony chided himself for being so oblivious. Now they didn't have a movie to watch, and he was going to need an excuse to stay. Come to think about it, Ziva probably thought he was there because he was making up for his sudden escape from the men's bathroom anyway. She was right. Mostly right anyway. He was also there because he missed her. Not that he was going to say anything about that; he already had his fair share of heart-pouring-truth-sharing moments in Somalia as it were.

He pulled out a chair and joined her at the small dinner table. "I can tell you about the movies though." He said earnestly.

Ziva laughed softly at him, batting away his hand as he tried to pick a piece of chicken from her box. He pulled back and grinned childishly at her.

"McGee didn't like Chinese." He said suddenly. At Ziva's enquiring glance, he continued. "I mean, don't get me wrong, he was fine as a movie buddy. But he wouldn't eat Chinese, or pizza 'cause he's on this crazy diet thing, which by the way, I don't see working." He allowed himself another mouthful of rice and chewed.

"He's got the right idea."

"What, _you_ want to stop having Chinese? And pizza too?" Tony's eyes widened at the incredulous thought and he nearly choked. Ziva chuckled at his astonished expression and waved her chopsticks in the air.

"No, I'm saying the food you constantly shove down your throat is very unhealthy. I cannot fault him for trying to stay away from it." She managed, before breaking into another fit of laughter at the look of horror that had crossed Tony's face.

He missed this. Mindless chatter about nothing, laughing at nothing. He was afraid that the ties that bound her and to him had been so severely broken that it would take a long time, and much more effort to go back to the way things had been. However, when he saw her earlier that morning in the bullpen carrying around that awful potted plant, he allowed himself to believe that_ finally_, after months of something being painfully _off_ about his existence, something was going right.

Her spontaneous visit to the men's bathroom the day before had resolved some issues that had been plaguing him since her return and Tony knew that while there were a whole lot more that needed to be said, deep down inside he was sure they would be okay. Well, unless she decided that she no longer liked Chow Mein or pizza and the occasional beer while they watched movies. No, he couldn't have her entertaining such treacherous ideas in her head.

"I'm not letting you forgo pizza." He said with an air of finality in his voice.

"You won't _let_ me?"

"No, and that's not the point. The point is –"

"I did not realise you had a point."

Tony fixed her with another pointed glare, and she silenced her laughter.

"My _point_ is that McGee doesn't eat like I do. And Abby always insists on crazy romantic movies which make no sense and vampires who sparkle in the daylight instead of turning to dust and then when I make fun of it, she makes me read the books they're based on as if that will change my opinion. And Gibbs has probably never heard of DVDs before. So that leaves you, and you've been gone for too long. And therefore you can't give up pizza."

His words were carelessly delivered but betrayed an honesty she hadn't heard in a long time. His eyes twinkled at her, begging her to understand the hidden meaning behind the words he had just spoken. He pleaded with her in the silent way only privy to the two of them to understand that he wanted them to be able to eat pizza and Chinese and be okay.

"So, you are saying you rescued me because you missed watching movies the way you were accustomed to?" She let a hint of incredulity seep into her words, though her impish smile let him know she was joking.

Her hands reached out to his over the table and squeezed them reassuringly, letting him know she truly understood. He gripped them back before pulling away, folding his arms in front of him and resting his head on them.

"Well, yeah. You've spoiled me. No one else watches movies with me the way you did. Now you don't even have a TV so I can't even do _that_."

"I will get one, and then you can come over again."

"Get one soon, please."

Ziva let out another bark of laughter and nodded.

"So you know what we _can_ do?"

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, a set of very naughty images flashed through his mind involving very un-partnerlike activities. Taking one look at Ziva's accusing stare as if she knew the direction his mind was taking, he decided to switch tracks. Tony remembered that pesky email that had been sent out to all the field agents that morning and decided to take advantage of the situation.

"You can use your ex-Mossad super powers to teach me to lie."

"_What?_"

"Annual polygraph test on Tuesday, Ziva. My expense reports haven't been the most honest reports I've sent in ..."

00000

End.

Poor McGee and his not-really-failed polygraph test in 7x03.

Review if you liked =]


	3. The Inside Man: Psychological Autopsy

Pretty much a filler chapter post 7x03 – The Inside Man. Nothing chapter. Abby and Ducky and Ziva embroiled in a conspiracy that will take down tall blue aliens in far away planets.

Yeah. I wish. It's really something on a smaller scale. Miniscule in comparison, really. Now on with the show.

**Psychological Autopsy**

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The ding of the elevator signalled Ziva's arrival at her destination. The doors slid open and she caught the whiff of the telling smell of iodine and alcohol and whatever else Ducky used to conduct his autopsies. She recalled, albeit with a hint of disgust, that at one point in her life the smell was more than welcomed because it signalled the end of a Mossad assignment, whether it placed her in the hospital or the Mossad infirmary. Now, it only reminded her of being traumatised from shock after her ordeal in Somalia, drifting in and out of consciousness, each time awakening to the face of different members of her team watching over her.

She approached the sliding doors to Autopsy and with a whoosh they parted. She stepped into the slightly cold room, her eyes searching for the elderly Medical Examiner. She spotted him at the far end of the large space, poring over a set of x-Rays, Palmer hovering behind him silently.

"Abby said you wanted to see me." She called out to him.

Startled, Ducky turned around and upon seeing his visitor, smiled broadly at her. "Yes, yes. I hope I didn't take you away from anything important." He said as he approached her.

Ziva shook her head and peered curiously at the x-rays.

"That looks terrible. Broken spine?" She ventured pointing at the black and white film on the board.

"Yes, among other things, but essentially a fatal fracture of the spine from T8 onwards. A very unfortunate car crash for the young Lieutenant." Ducky murmured, signing off on a piece of paper that Palmer handed to him. Palmer shot Ziva a wan smile before scurrying off to whoever was leading the case the X-rays belonged to.

Ziva narrowed her eyes at the silence that had befallen them, suspicious now about the reason she had been called down. Abby had all but forced her to leave her lab after she submitted the agent application that Gibbs finally agreed to sign and Ducky was now peering at her with an intensity she never knew the older man was capable of. Abby on her own was a force to be reckoned with when she felt like intervening and meddling, but place Ducky in the mix and it would be a forensic-busybody-psychological disaster waiting to happen. For Ziva anyway.

"Why am I here, Duck?" She asked as she pulled a chair and sat down in front one of the autopsy tables. Ducky did the same, settling himself close to her.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing, my dear girl." He failed to tell her Abby had promised him a set of unusually marked, unidentified remains to examine if he went through with her demands.

And there it was; the confirmation of Ziva's suspicions. No one seemed to understand that as much as the torture was physically and emotionally scarring, she really did not need to relive it again and again through needless sessions of psychotherapy. She sighed. Didn't they already have this conversation that morning?

"I'm totally fine, Ducky." She answered, echoing the same reply she gave him earlier. But the moment the words left her mouth, she knew Ducky would not let it go that easily this time.

"Ziva, might I just make a few –" Ducky got cut off with an absent minded flick of Ziva's wrist.

"Go ahead, Duck. Make your psychological observations, I do not mind." She let out with an exasperated sigh. She knew he wouldn't let up and it was better they get it over with sooner than later. Better him than that Janice Bracko quack of a psychologist.

"I must say, you're taking all of this better than I expected you to. One may have thought you would take more time to readjust to the situation as it were. It is very admirable." He began as he took of his glasses to give it a good wipe with a cloth he fished out of his pocket.

"It has not been too hard, adapting to foreign situations is taught early in Mossad training. Doctor Bracko made the same analysis." She said. Of course, the psych sessions conducted by the doctor with the man hands and pretty eyes were mostly comprised of awkward silences and angry death stares with the occasional one worded answers.

Ziva didn't understand the significance of talking about her experiences with someone who only knew her through her personnel file. She supplied the doctor with the bare facts of her captivity, and whether it was the result of the death glares or knowing her efforts were in futility, the doctor was more than happy to accept her answers as adequate.

"Ah, I see. Doctor Bracko is a remarkable psychologist. I hope she has not given you too much to fret over." Ducky said.

Ziva shook her head again. "No, the sessions are proceeding as well as they can be."

However, rhe psychological evaluation file that Abby had not-so-properly acquired stated otherwise. The forensic scientist, in a bout of boredom and mischief had taken it upon herself to see if Ziva had passed the necessary evaluation for her to be back on the team. The psychological analysis itself had befuddled her but she couldn't mistake the red markings harshly scribbled on the side.

'_Patient disregards social niceties, stays monosyllabic, unresponsive and detached.'_

'_... displaying signs of mild PTSD, easily remedied if patient was willing to participate ... '_

Of course the only conclusion Abby came to after reading the report was that Janice Bracko was a lousy, subpar doctor, and she gave Ducky the job of doing Janice's job just to be sure, in exchange for special bones.

"Abby told me Jethro has approved your application to be an agent here."

The sudden change of direction in the inquiry surprised Ziva, but it was welcomed nonetheless. This, she was willing to talk about.

"Yes, I have filed the application with the Director. All he needs is to give it the go ahead and I can take this off." She tugged at the plastic 'Visitor' tag hanging around her neck. "It took less persuading than I thought to get Gibbs' approval." She added as an afterthought.

"I don't mean to question your judgement, but are you sure you're okay with giving everything up for a position here?" Ducky asked gently.

"Why would I not be? Eli ... Eli is in the past, as is Mossad. I have no reason to doubt my where loyalties lie. Which, for the record, lies with NCIS."

She blinked at him, surprised at the sound of conviction in her own voice. She wasn't going to pretend that the idea of leaving her life behind had not been scary, but voicing her opinions now left her with a sudden light-heartedness that drew a smile across her face. She clasped her hands in front of her.

"A brand new beginning, is it not what you psychologists like to encourage?"

Ducky's eyes twinkled in humour at her words and nodded. "Yes, a new beginning is always good. How are things with the rest of the team? Do they know about your application?"

"Tony does, and I assume Abby will tell McGee at some point. Why?" As she finished, she realised with regret that she'd fallen right into Ducky's trap. Oh, he was good. Doctor Bracko had tried many times to guide Ziva onto the topic of Tony, their partnership and the issues that had led to the mess that had trailed behind them in the aftermath. Ziva had managed to avoid the topic during these sessions, easily deflecting with the help of a few well timed death stares, but face to face with Ducky, she seemed to be trapped in the corner.

Get the target comfortable, and then strike at the ready. Who knew Ducky was so versed in such manipulation tactics?

"I merely ask out of curiosity." He offered. "The way things ended with you and Anthony is not a secret. I would say in the future when your application gets approved and these issues are not resolved, it will most definitely affect the dynamics of the team."

"Tony and I ..." She faltered as she recalled the few nights they had spent together after her apology in the men's bathroom. Late night movies, takeout, the firing range, driving aimlessly around her neighbourhood. "We are mending broken bridges." She told Ducky with a small smile.

Ducky chuckled with a knowing smirk on his face. He knew they would work things out in the end. He had never seen a pair so in tune with each other as the two. Though it was clear Tony was more often than not the source of Ziva's irritation and annoyance, Ducky detected from the smile that was grazing Ziva's features that Tony was also the one of the reasons for her laughter and joy.

"Well, I, for one am absolutely ecstatic that you have returned to us, my dear. It's not too often one succeeds in recovering a lost love." He refrained just in time from relaying a story about monsters that lurk beneath the surface, claiming lost sailors at sea. Ziva seemed suddenly abashed at his proclamation of her being a lost love but she chuckled at him all the same. Ducky placed a hand over Ziva's over the autopsy table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"And even if Jethro fails to convey it, I'm sure he is more than comfortable with your presence in his team as well. Even if it is merely to keep Anthony in line once in a while."

Ziva's phone started chirping then, preventing her from forming a reply and she gave him an apologetic smile before answering it. She pushed away from the table, scraping the chair noisily against the floor before retreating to the far end of the room to talk to whoever it was on the other end.

Ducky cast a wary glance at the folder hidden beneath the stacks of reports on the table underneath the X-Rays. If only he had been allowed to conduct her psych evaluations, Ziva would not have been so antagonistic and unresponsive. His time today had proven that. The same report that Abby had sent him had been submitted to Director Vance, complete with the scathing comments. Ducky could foresee a session between the Director and Ziva in the near future which would be somewhat unpleasant. The Director was a stickler for details and as it stood, Bracko's report barely skimmed the details of Ziva's ordeal.

The silent padding of footfalls signalled Ziva's return to his side, and she placed her hand on his arm.

"I have to go, Ducky. Tony says there is a movie with very tall blue aliens that I have to _absolutely_ watch with him." Her fingers formed air quotes as she finished, eliciting a small laugh from Ducky.

"Very well then, my dear. Off you go." Ducky followed her to the sliding doors with a hand on the small of her back. He watched her make a few steps towards the elevators before turning back to him. Her eyes were bright, lips in a firm line as she nodded imperceptibly at him.

"Thank you. For ... just now. Thank you, Duck."

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The End.

Mm. It seems I have completely failed at Ducky-voice. Yikes. Maybe I should go back and hide in my should-only-write-Tiva shell. Psychology speak befuddles me too. . . I think I'm going to like writing post Good Cop Bad Cop though. So that should be something to look forward to.

Reviews are loved, and cuddled and they make me really, really happy.


	4. Good Cop, Bad Cop: Welcome to Probiedom

Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favourite-ing, putting this under alerts and stuff. I make a little fangirl squeal every time I receive them in my inbox and it literally makes my day.

Right, I was toying with the idea of an angst ridden chapter post Good Cop, Bad Cop, but the Tiva fangirl in me screamed really loudly and wouldn't shut up until I changed my mind. That particular angst ridden fic will still make its way out there somehow though. But for now, here we go, back to what I love best. =]

**Welcome to Probie-dom.**

00000

The stack of papers sitting before her never seemed to move. It had been hours since Tony had unceremoniously dumped the crazy pile on her desk and yet it had barely decreased in height. She was significantly more light hearted, finally able to let go of at least some of the horrors of her nightmarish summer the day before. Being granted approval to be an agent was the icing on the cake, but her bubble of excitement was slowly wearing thin. Five hours sitting at her desk with nothing but her co-workers' crazy set of long overdue paperwork was definitely not how she expected to spend her first day as an official NCIS agent.

_Probationary _NCIS agent, the Tony-voice in her head amended. She didn't know when she started having a Tony-voice but she suspected it stemmed from her time in Somalia, being alone in a dark cell with nothing but roaches to keep her company. Still, sometimes she wished she could throw imaginary paperclips at her Tony-voice just to shut him up, much like how she would love to occasionally do the same to its real life counterpart.

And speaking of the devil...

She spied a tuft of brown hair bobbing over the side of the partition of her desk. She turned to it curiously and shook her head in disbelief. The man could be a real_ child_ sometimes. She pushed her chair back silently and peered over the edge. His obnoxiously large head was hunched over what she supposed was about to be some sort of prank and she lashed out, grabbing the closest bit of hair and pulling it upwards.

The sound of him yelping in pain was very satisfying, and she dragged it higher still until Tony was standing at full height and she let go, replacing her amused look with a steely glare.

"What do you think you are doing?"

He stood there pouting like a hurt puppy and rubbed the back of his head. Something clinked noisily on the ground and Ziva assumed it had something to do with whatever prank he had been trying to play on her. She waited expectantly for an answer and he merely looked on disgruntled.

"You know, that was worse than a Gibbs slap." He finally said, still rubbing gingerly at the patch of hair she had pulled.

"I am sure he would be happy to know that."

Tony let out a panicked whimper and shook his head vehemently. "No, no. Some things should stay secret. Things like this. I'm sorry. Thought you could use a break from y'know. Paperwork." He motioned carelessly at the offending pile of work on her desk. She gave a quick look towards the stack of papers and shrugged.

"It is just paperwork."She muttered, feigning nonchalance. Of course Tony didn't have to know that she had contemplated burning the damn thing and blaming it on one of Abby's lab experiments mere minutes before.

"You weren't home last night."

If Ziva was startled by the sudden change in topics, she didn't show it. She narrowed her eyes at him and returned to her seat. Tony walked around the partition and leaned over her desk, his face suddenly dangerously close to hers. She instinctively backed away.

"Yes, I was home." She answered, ignoring her partner who had somehow managed to inch closer to her even with the computer monitor in his way. She could smell his cologne and his aftershave and it was all she could do to stop herself for pulling him closer and just giving him a good sniff.

"Okay, sorry. You weren't home at _nine o' clock_ last night."

Giving up all pretences of trying to get back to work, she eyed him warily. "_Yes_, I know that." She tapped her fingers impatiently on her desk, wishing he would hurry up and get to the point. There was only so much Tony she could take before she reached out and closed the distance between them, partnership be damned.

Ziva had to shake her head to clear the uncharacteristic thoughts swimming in her head. Clearly, the stress she had been forced to endure the day before was to blame for all of this.

"I had beer and stuff, and you weren't home or answering your cell. There's a rule about that somewhere."

Ziva bit back a scathing _'It's none of your business'_ before replying him.

"Tony, I was not 'unreachable'. If we had a case, Gibbs would have called, not you, and I would have answered." Her words must have affected him more than she expected because he pulled back a few inches scrunching his nose in what Ziva supposed was a look of irritation. She took pity on him and placed her hands over his on her desk.

"Next time, you should make sure I am free to entertain you and your chronic sleeping problem before you show up unannounced at my doorstep."

"But you're always home!"

"I've just proven that theory wrong, did I not?"

"I just thought that y'know. That if you wanted... to talk, after yesterday with Ben-Gidon and the Director." He cast a quick look around for any potential eavesdroppers and finding none, he continued. "'Cause I know you went home after Gibbs talked to you and you don't go home early usually and I thought you could use some alcohol and food. That sort of thing."

"I just needed some air. I took a drive, watched the ducks. I was fine, I _am_ fine, Tony." Ziva couldn't deny that she was slightly touched at his sudden display of empathy. She decided she liked this rarely seen side of Tony.

"But if you ever – " She cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"I will let you know."

Tony seemed happy enough with her sort-of-promise and proceeded to come around to her side, his shoulders bumping with hers. He looked as though he was going to make some quip about her seemingly never-ending stack of paperwork but the elevator dinged. They both turned to it, hoping it wasn't Gibbs who stepped out; their close proximity and lack of getting work done was a sure fire way of earning them both a slap to the back of their heads.

It was McGee who strode briskly towards them however, and they both let out a sigh of relief. There was still time to loiter around pretending to work. McGee looked at them curiously, taking note of the fallen stapler by the side of her partition and his two co-workers who were giving him very similar undecipherable looks. He walked to his desk, slightly unnerved as both of them failed to take their eyes off him, following his every move to his desk. Ziva suddenly broke out in an uncharacteristic grin.

"Is that for me?" She asked, pointing to the burrito McGee held in his hand.

"Wha- No! You took your break earlier, you should have eaten then." McGee said aghast, immediately proceeding to unwrap his lunch and taking a bite out of it.

There were three pens and two very sharp letter openers in her drawer. That meant she had five opportunities to scare McGee into relinquishing his lunch and was seriously deciding which ones would leave the least traces. If she offered half the burrito to Tony, she was sure he would help her too. Before she had a chance to voice her thoughts though, the delicious smell of a Philly Cheesesteak sandwich wafted towards her.

Something white was thrust under her nose and she blinked at it, realising the smell was coming from the package that Tony was now holding in front of her face.

She widened her eyes at it before looking up at Tony.

"Is _that_ for me?" She asked, her fingers already wrapping around the sandwich. Tony nodded and stepped away from her. He pulled his backpack over his shoulders as he made his way back to his own desk, ignoring McGee's astonished look.

"Probies need nutrition to carry out the grunt work in the office." He said as an explanation, pulling out his cell phone and flipping it open.

"You almost never buy _me_ lunch, and when you do you always make me pay my share." McGee protested.

Tony looked up from his game of Tetris and lifted his legs, crossing them on his desk. Ziva watched him in amusement, waiting to see how he was going to explain away his very obvious double standards. Not that she was complaining. She caught his eye for a few seconds before he turned back to McGee. A crumpled ball of paper flew towards the younger agent and bounced off his head, neatly into the waste paper basket next to his desk. Ziva held back her sudden desire to clap.

"That's because you're not a Probie _Junior - a_ _probie_-Probie, which is what Ziva is. You're the original Probie, and you should be proud of that." He finished with a flourish and turned back to his game of Tetris.

McGee let out an annoyed huff and returned to his computer. Ziva did the same, her hunger now temporarily satisfied. She opened up her internet browser, another form of distracting herself from the workload and nearly jumped as a flashing ad popped up instead. The ad described the half price off an edible blue dye, a sale in commemoration with Halloween being around the corner, and she read on with interest before closing the window. A glint of silver caught her eye and she abruptly looked down, dutifully sifting through the mess on her desk. She was going to enjoy this.

"Though of course, if we look at it another way, _Gibbs_ was the original Probie, which makes you the ... uh, second class Probie? And Ziva would be the second class Probie Junior." She heard Tony musing in contemplation.

A loud smack and a dozen swimming stars later, Tony crowed in pain and he swivelled around to see his boss glaring at him.

"You don't get to call me Probie, DiNozzo."

0000

End.

As always, I love to hear feedback. Thank you for reading!


	5. Code of Conduct:Covert Poking & Prodding

Sorry for the delay in getting this one up, folks. Post 7x05 - Code of Conduct.

Certainly not my best - but then again no one can write Gibbs the way the NCIS writers do. So I'm happy with settling. On with the show!

**Covert Poking and Prodding**

00000

"Where's DiNozzo?"

McGee looked up from his computer screen, momentarily startled by his boss' sudden outburst. He glanced over his co-worker's desk and finding it Tony-less, shrugged and focused back on the report he was supposed to be completing.

"David! Go find DiNozzo!"

McGee looked up again to see Ziva scuttling away, looking very relieved to have been handed a legitimate excuse to stop working momentarily. Gibbs turned around to him, trademark coffee in his hand as he edged closer to McGee's desk.

"Uh... boss?"

"Need to ask you something McGee."

"I didn't have anything to do with Tony's blue teeth!" McGee blurted out. He blinked several times before he realised that Gibbs was probably not interested and instead was now fixing him with an amused smile.

Gibbs tilted his head and moved away after a moment. Seeing the subtle instruction in his boss' movements, McGee followed him to the elevator. He mentally racked his brains trying to come up with things he might have forgotten to do or instructions he may have misheard and came up with nothing. They waited in silence for the elevator, McGee growing more agitated with the suspense and Gibbs in his ever present state of calm. The doors slid open noiselessly and just as it slid shut again, Gibbs jammed the emergency stop button, bathing them both in a soft white light.

"How are you doing, McGee?"

His boss was facing him and McGee was taken aback at the question. He blinked a few times before volunteering an answer.

"I'm fine."

The hesitation was not lost on Gibbs as he took a swig of his coffee. McGee shifted uneasily on his feet and bit back a nervous laugh. "I mean, like in a general sense, I'm fine. A little stressed about meeting the next deadline for my book and family stuff, but – "

"I meant with Somalia, McGee." Gibbs peered at him over the rim of his extra large coffee cup and McGee swallowed visibly. _This_ is what Gibbs wanted to talk to him about?

Almost instantly he could taste the metallic tinge of his own blood in his mouth, the pain from cracked ribs after being kicked, the feeling of the hard floor beneath his back as he pretended to be unconscious, the muffled cries of pain as his temporary partner got beaten up for not providing information.

"Tha – I'm – I'm still working on that. I'm okay though, boss. Really."

Because truth be told, he really was okay. When Tony outlined his crazy suicide mission, he had made sure the younger agent understood the risks involved before allowing him to participate. Tony's sudden bloodlust for revenge had been intoxicating and it was so strong it seeped into McGee's own sense of wellbeing and for a while, knowing that he was going in to avenge a fallen friend had seemed like a fine way to die. Poetic, even.

Gibbs' blue eyes bore into his as though he was analysing the truth behind his own words. He seemed satisfied enough after a few seconds and stepped back, leaning against the wall.

"And DiNozzo? David? Do I need to worry about the rest of my team?"

McGee felt it was strange that Gibbs was asking. As far as he knew, Gibbs was never one for covert poking and prodding unless it had something to do with a witness or a suspect. McGee contemplated before answering, carefully picking out the right words to say.

"I think they're dealing with it in their own way." He finally managed after a moment's pause.

"So they seem fine enough to you?"

It wasn't often Gibbs displayed such open concern about his team but McGee had always known beneath the stoic exterior was a man with the heart ten times the size of the US. This only confirmed it.

"Yeah. I mean, he killed her boyfriend, and she nearly killed him for it. But at that camp, he said some things he can't take back. And I think Ziva doesn't want him to anyway. This morning, she made his teeth blue and he glued her cell phone to her hand. I think they'll be okay."

He felt like he was back in school, being questioned by the school principal and tattling about the two big bullies in class. McGee leaned back against the cool metal wall and readjusted his suit. "But we're uh, good boss. Back to normal in no time."

Gibbs nodded, taking a slow sip of his coffee. McGee pursed his lips, deciding whether or not he had said too much. After all, a simple non specific reassurance would have been sufficient.

"You know what, you did good out there. You both did."

Gibbs' voice was soft enough that McGee had to strain to hear it. The careless flick of the emergency button and the groan of the elevator starting up prevented further conversation before the doors slid open again. As they stepped out of the elevator, McGee allowed a proud smirk to grace his features before settling back comfortably at his desk.

Yeah, he did good.

00000

End

Thanks for reading, reviews always welcome! :)


	6. Outlaws and In Laws: Punching Bag

Another one, and so soon as well. I'm so proud =) Thanks loads for the reviews and alerts – some of you reviewed every chapter that time round, which made me a very happy person. Every single one of your reviews is greatly appreciated, and I will always love hearing from you.

**Punching Bag**

00000

The loud noises coming from the NCIS gym peaked McGee's curiosity as he made his way out of the elevator. The rattling of a chain and the subsequent harsh sound of flesh coming into contact with synthetic padding caused him to turn around and peer into the darkened room. The only people left in the building were the members of Team Gibbs, having only just returned from making their latest arrest. It could have only been either Tony or Ziva inside as Gibbs was busy occupying himself with the Colonels interrogation.

The team, sans McGee, had walked into the bullpen earlier with the Colonel in handcuffs and Damon Werth following dutifully behind Gibbs. McGee, appointed as the unofficial bearer of good news had scampered down to Abby's lab to tell her of their success. He'd missed Tony and Ziva's entrance and his best bet was that it was either one of them who was now taking out their anger on the unsuspecting punching bag.

McGee squinted in the darkness and could barely make out the shape of a person circling the bag hanging from the ceiling in the far corner of the gym. He could tell in an instant that it was Tony; no one else hit as passionately and wildly as he did.

He considered backing away and going back to the bullpen after realising who it was. There was no need to stick his nose in someone else's business, especially if that someone turned out to be an irate Tony. Besides, he wanted to double check his order of self help CDs he was in the middle of when Team Gibbs returned before. But when he heard another loud grunt followed quickly by a curse of pain, he figured he should say something before Tony ended up with broken bones in his hands.

"Tony, is that you?"

His voice echoed through the near empty room and the man stopped moving before starting towards him. Indeed it was Tony, with his shirt sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. He was sweating profusely and McGee noted that his co-worker was barefoot as well. McGee barely managed to restrain himself from making a Hobbit comment.

"What do you want, McNosy?"

McGee definitely did not expect the irritation that dripped from Tony's voice. Still, ever the loyal friend, he ploughed on.

"I just came from the lab. Abby said there was an attack at Gibbs' house while you and Ziva were there. Are you guys alright?" He asked, ignoring Tony's glare.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" Tony scoffed, snagging a towel hanging from the side of the room and draping it across his shoulders. There was a telling restlessness in his movements that McGee only saw when Tony was having one of his bad days. Tony was tense and if his shaking shoulders were any indication, still very riled up.

"So what did the punching bag do to you? Are you taking out your frustrations on it because Ziva had to save you back there?" He joked, trying to lighten the mood, and all at once he realised he had said the wrong thing.

Tony's nose flared, his eyes widened and his mouth parted in what McGee would classify as a menacing snarl. McGee's skin prickled and instinctively stepped an inch away from Tony.

"_Save _me?" Tony's voice increased by several decibels.

"I got thrown to the ground when the flashbang went off. I'm not allowed to sleep tonight because apparently if I do, I'll go into a coma. There was a gun, a foot away from her hand, McGee. And she was just _lying_ there on the ground. Ziva was not in the right frame of mind to save anyone tonight."

Obviously, that was the source of his frustrations. McGee took in the exhaustion that was written all over Tony's face and found himself feeling guilty for egging him on. McGee started to apologise, but stopped himself as Tony flung the soaked towel in his direction.

"Look, McGee. It's been really long night. So if I want to hit something, I'll very well hit whatever I like. And you should be grateful it isn't you."

McGee let out a puff of air he didn't realise he had been holding. An angry Tony was a force to be reckoned with, and he'd learned that the hard way last summer. Tony's hands were balled up into fists and McGee could see the splotches of red across his knuckles from the beating they had just suffered. The only times he'd seen Tony so worked up was after Kate got shot, and during the weeks after they heard the news about the Damocles going down.

Oh.

_Oh._

"You... you thought you were going to lose her tonight."

The force of the look Tony sent his way as he said the words had the same effect as Gibbs smacking him upside the head. McGee flinched.

Instead of the denial McGee thought would come out of his mouth, Tony resigned himself to speaking in a normal volume with just a hint of defeat in his voice.

"I don't know _what_ I was thinking. They were big men, with big guns and fully armed for an all out tactical assault. And all I know is that when that junkie Werth recognised her, I was never more thankful in my life, as crazy as that sounds."

McGee nodded. "But it's all settled right? You guys got the Colonel. And Werth is willing to testify to the Federalis about the bounty hunting..." He stopped when Tony waved a dismissing hand in the air.

"Yeah, it's done, settled. We're both okay according to Ducky except for my head. I think I just need to get out of my 'have-to-save-Ziva' mode - old habits die hard, y'know? The summer ..." Tony trailed off and McGee knew not to push any further.

Tony pushed himself off the wall and rolled down his sleeves, signalling the end of their short conversation. "But I guess she can handle herself now. She's back to being the super ninja extraordinaire. " He said, plastering a fake grin on his face. Tony turned around and pointed to the far end of the gym.

"I'm just gonna go get my shoes."

McGee waited as Tony jogged back to put on his shoes and returned, his hair still dishevelled but nonetheless looking slightly more like his normal self again. Tony turned to McGee as they left the gym and fixed him with a stern stare.

"You know, last summer when we talked about not mentioning certain conversations ever again?"

Memories of late nights at the bar with Tony drunk and rambling on about Ziva, Mossad, Jeanne, campfires and Gibbs' summer of retirement flashed in his mind's eye. McGee nodded slowly and cleared his throat.

"Uh... yeah?"

"That was one of them."

00000

End.

The McGee/Tony dynamic this season has been great, obviously due to them being partners with the absence of Ziva that summer. The first few episodes had them talking about dates and women – and I liked that. Only seems natural that they both had each other to talk to – and the latest episode about their 'bromance' was such an awesome testament to that.

As usual – I love hearing what you thought of this piece =)


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